


The Lord's Duty

by metisket



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Gen, don't look now, elliot thinks he's a white knight, feel free to call sharon 'mistress', leo thinks he's an idiot, oz is very proud, to the rescue!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metisket/pseuds/metisket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Leo wondered just what he was to Elliot Nightray. Sometimes the answer seemed troublingly close to <i>everything</i>. Elliot had an awful tendency to lean on weak reeds, and then to blame them when they broke.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lord's Duty

**Author's Note:**

> First posted December 2010, spoilers/accurate through Ch. 56.
> 
> It's been seriously, tragically jossed since then, alas. Except for one line which turned out to be horrifyingly prophetic.

Pandora was troubled, and they were right to be. Leo had been troubled for most of his life, so actually Pandora was way behind the curve.

For shame.

The room used for important meetings was huge and dark, with thick rugs and old tapestries muffling all sound. Not that there was much sound to muffle; the room was choked with a tension that made it not only hard to talk, but hard to breathe. Of course, it was full of people about to decide the fate of a dozen unintentional, under-aged murderers. Tension was natural.

They were each to be tried individually, which was an absurd waste of time. All for one, after all. But this way, maybe Pandora could spare the youngest, and pretend to themselves it was justice. Leo was under no illusion that they would spare everyone. The general public was far too terrified for that.

A very awkward position for the judges to find themselves in. It was almost a relief to be on the side of the soon-to-be-condemned. No difficult decisions for Leo. He could enjoy the beautiful calm of _too late_.

Someone dropped a stack of papers, causing a ripple effect in the tension of the room. Leo didn’t look to see who’d done it. Leo hadn’t looked at anything but books, his knees, or various types of flooring for days. It used to be that the world was bearable enough, blurred soft beyond glasses, half-hidden by hair. Now he wanted it gone, _gone_ , burnt to rubble and ash and nothing, his own personal Tragedy of Sablier. But failing that, he didn’t need to see it. He refused to see it.

He’d read book after book during the time he’d spent locked in a bare room that didn’t look like a cell, but was one. They let him read. They even brought him requests. God, he must have read half a dozen of those awful Holy Knight books that Elliot and Oz loved so much. They brought on a combination of fond amusement and hair-tearing frustration; it was almost like having Elliot in the room. Leo spent a lot of time wondering if Elliot had become so ridiculous due to reading those asinine books, or if he’d started reading them because he was ridiculous to begin with.

He didn’t spend any time thinking about his own situation. No point.

He was told that reading during his own hearing (trial, condemnation) wouldn’t be permitted. In the absence of books, he studied the dull, dark pattern of the carpet, listened to the quiet murmurs, the shuffling of paper, the occasional awkward cough. He tried to think of nothing, which worked about as well as might be expected. He waited.

The hush shattered into pieces the instant Elliot and Oz walked in.

“What the _hell_ is going on!?” Elliot never had learned to be polite in company, and now Leo wouldn’t be able to train him. He’d thought he would have the time. _I thought I had a lifetime_. He’d been naïve. Even Elliot couldn’t overlook the murders of his own family.

_“Do you want revenge?”_

_“I just want to understand why.”_

“This is a trial,” Oz said with brittle calm. “Isn’t it?” Leo had heard him use that tone of voice before, but where? Ah, yes. In Sablier, holding a scythe dripping blood. Oz Vessarius could be quite alarming.

Well, and so could they all. No innocents in this room.

“ _Isn’t it!?_ ”

“Now, now, Master Oz,” drawled Xerxes Break, unmistakable voice, unmistakable tapping cane. “Let us hear their excuses—ah, pardon me, _reasons_.”

“Hey, we broke the chandelier in here one time.” The mysterious Alice. And where there were Oz and Alice, there was surely Gilbert as well. And where there were Break and Duchess Rainsworth, there was surely Lady Sharon. Oscar Vessarius, of course, had been here all along, for the hearing. Which meant the entire, ah, Oz faction was present. Except for Reim.

The Oz faction, who ought to be howling for Leo’s blood almost as loudly as the Nightrays. Although that didn’t seem their style. Leo supposed he’d have to wait and see. He picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket. Such a new jacket, and already coming apart. Poor craftsmanship. And to think the Nightrays were meant to be rich.

“Now then,” said Break, a smile in his voice. “You appear to be trying a number of minors for crimes they did not mean to commit while in the thrall of a chain they did not mean to make a contract with. That seems curious, does it not, Miss Sharon?”

“It does seem curious, Break,” she agreed.

“And a meeting of Pandora to which we were not officially invited! I’m wounded, I really am. And that, too, is…peculiar.”

“It _is_ , isn’t it? Particularly since they told Grandmother and Duke Oscar…who of course told us. As everyone must have known they would.”

“A very insincere secret, one might say.”

“Almost as if they wanted us to stop them.”

“But didn’t want to be blamed for the consequences. What shall we call this behavior, Miss Sharon?”

“Cowardice,” Sharon snapped with all the force of a thrown gauntlet.

It turned out that suffocating silence came in several different flavors. Before, it had been purely oppressive. Now there was an air of panic to it. Leo smiled; he’d always enjoyed the absurd.

The silence was eventually cut through by a gentle, chiming laugh. “As I understood it,” said Duchess Rainsworth, “or perhaps I should say…as it was _explained_ to me, Pandora was afraid you might have a conflict of interest. The House of Fianna is a Nightray operation, so there’s an obvious conflict there, which is why Duke Nightray isn’t with us today. The rest of you were deemed too, hm, involved with Masters Elliot and Gilbert to be impartial.”

“I see. But Duke Vessarius was not?” Break asked lightly.

Duchess Rainsworth laughed again.

“This is no laughing matter!” someone blustered. “Duke Vessarius isn’t as cozy with the Nightrays as the rest of you. Young Vessarius here is always schmoozing with that Elliot Nightray, when everyone knows he and his little criminal servant are thick as thieves! Thick as thieves! I call it unnatural, being so close with the lower classes.” _Ah_ , Leo thought. _A romantic_. “But that’s the Nightrays all over! After they adopted those two derelicts, what can you expect? And you!”

“Me?” Break asked lightly.

“ _You!_ ” the man shouted, apparently at a loss for other descriptive terms.

“And Lady Sharon?” Break inquired. This was a dangerous question. Anyone could hear that it was a dangerous question.

“Everyone knows you have some strange hold over the girl!”

Anyone except the anonymous blusterer, apparently. Leo sent up a silent prayer for his immortal soul.

Sharon sighed. “Break,” she said, “on your knees, please.”

A thump as Break hit the ground.

“You seem confused, sir, as to which of us has a hold over the other. Would you feel better if I had him lick my boots as well?”

The blusterer stuttered, panicked, denied everything at random. Nervous laughter rippled through the room. Personally, Leo would feel better if he knew that this show was only for the benefit of the audience. Of course, it could have been worse. Break might’ve killed the man for the insult.

…Come to think of it, he might still kill the man. Later. When there were no witnesses.

The blusterer mustered his resources as Break climbed back to his feet. “Well…well, but you can’t explain away the Nightray boy! That servant of his probably told him everything! Thick as thieves!”

Elliot made a sound that could most accurately be described, Leo thought, as _pained_. So Elliot had wanted to be told everything, and was hurt that he hadn’t been. If he was hurt, then he wasn’t angry, as would’ve been appropriate. And if he wasn’t angry, then he must have barged in here to rescue Leo. Again. How very…Elliot.

Leo breathed in and wondered just what he was to Elliot Nightray. More than a servant, obviously. And more than a friend; Oz was a friend, and Elliot wouldn’t have stormed a trial for Oz after Oz had wiped out his family. So what?

Sometimes the answer seemed troublingly close to _everything_. Elliot had an awful tendency to lean on weak reeds, and then to blame them when they broke.

“I didn’t tell Elliot anything,” Leo said, the sound of his voice strange, rough as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

Because he hadn’t spoken in days, he realized. What had there been to say? He’d written down his book requests.

“No,” Elliot agreed, sounding almost as rough as Leo, and without his excuse. “You didn’t trust me that much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leo snapped, his calm smashed just like the silence had been, because Elliot always— _always_ —“If I’d told you, I would have trusted you to do exactly what you did anyway, you stupid maniac, chasing around after serial killers like you have a _death wish_ —”

“That’s my duty!”

“Your life isn’t one of those stupid books!”

“Neither is yours! And what kind of waffling moron tells me I can definitely find the Headhunter, and then doesn’t tell me _anything_ —”

“I thought you’d learn enough to help Pandora! I thought Oz would get there faster than you because he’s even crazier than you are, and I don’t care as much if he dies!”

Oz made a choked noise off to the side—laughter. Thank God for his bizarre sense of humor. Leo really needed to learn to consider what he was saying during his fights with Elliot, but Elliot was spouting nonsense again, and Leo just couldn’t spare the time.

“Don’t care as much—? What’s _wrong_ with you, what the hell is that supposed to—”

“Do you know what kind of nightmare it was to look up and see _you?_ ”

“I know exactly what kind of nightmare it was, you _idiot_. Don’t even talk to me about nightmares!”

“Boys, boys,” Xerxes Break said, voice slicing under theirs and shutting even Elliot up. “Let’s save our in-fighting for later, hm? We need to work out a few details here before we can really settle into blame and recriminations.”

“A few _details?_ ” choked an anonymous someone. Probably the blusterer from before. Surely there weren’t multiple members of Pandora this stupid.

“Yes, yes, yes! Obviously this farce can’t be allowed to continue, and Miss Sharon and I are here so that you can all save face, are we not? But the children must live somewhere. I suppose I’ll take responsibility for them.”

A lot of voices raised in response to that one, but the blustering someone’s rose the highest. “You!? What, for your private revenge? We all know how you angry you are about Reim, Break, and we understand, but they’re only children, and—”

“Reim was not injured by the Headhunter,” Break interrupted smoothly. “And even if he had been, I wouldn’t hold the children responsible. In the event, Gilbert and Oz and I have already killed quite a few of the people I hold responsible, and consequently I feel _much_ better now.” A long silence while the room processed that. “I’m too impatient for prolonged revenge. A character flaw, I know,” Break admitted, with a low, delighted chuckle. Leo saw movement across the room, a white shape—a fan going up, probably. Duchess Rainsworth covering a smile, at a guess. Leo ducked his head again. He hadn’t meant to look.

If this went on much longer, he was going to end up more afraid of his saviors than of his would-be executioners. Although he was certainly enjoying the spectacle of a roomful of nobles being pushed around and played with by someone’s servant. It was the element of uncertainty that made it possible, Leo thought. Break seemed about equally likely to engage in wholesale slaughter or break into song.

Unpredictability. Leo should work on that himself.

“Well,” Break murmured, soft and demented. “Are we agreed?”

They weren’t, not at first. More people than the blusterer had problems, some of them legitimate. Conflict of interest, high-handed justice, the difficulties of providing for a dozen children, etc. There was an awful lot of support, though. Break had friends in high places. Break had friends everywhere.

In the end, Pandora was steamrolled. It was very…worrying. Leo happened to be benefitting from it at the moment, but the potential for abuse was scary. Pandora was apparently nothing more than a shield, available to protect whoever was most domineering. In this case, Break.

Leo was going to have to brood about this later, and perhaps panic as well. But not just now. Just now, he could hear impatient, booted steps headed his way, and he knew this conversation would take all of his attention. He looked up despite himself, because he didn’t care about the world and he didn’t want to remember anything about today, but he had to see Elliot.

Elliot, who was marching toward him (he always marched everywhere; he never did anything so mundane as _walking_ ). He snatched Gilbert’s hat off his head in passing for mysterious Elliot reasons. He made it to Leo’s side, all arrogant confidence, untold generations of Nightray pride behind him—and then he stopped and fidgeted with the hat in sudden, ill-concealed panic.

Leo’s helpless fondness for this well-meaning disaster of a boy was going to be the death of both of them. He wished he could talk himself out of it. He wished he could at least regret it.

Elliot abruptly reached out and shoved Gilbert’s hat low over Leo’s head and glasses, so that all he could see was hat and a blurry strip of floor. It was very uncomfortable. Leo smiled and reminded himself that he hadn’t cried for six years and really shouldn’t start again now.

“We’re leaving,” Oz announced, pleased as if he’d arranged it all himself. Which, for all Leo knew, he had.

“If we’d just killed them and grabbed the guy like I wanted, we could’ve been done ages ago,” Alice grumbled. “I’m _hungry_ now.”

“Shut _up_ , stupid rabbit. Try to learn to read a situation for God’s sake—”

Duchess Rainsworth’s delighted laugh sounded across the room. Hard to believe in that stifling quiet of—twenty minutes ago?

Leo could feel Elliot’s awkward uncertainty from a clean two feet away, and the smile just wouldn’t stop, even though—things weren’t _better_ , they were only—

Two feet away, then Elliot seized Leo’s arm and dragged him up out of the chair. Holding on too hard, because he didn’t understand his emotions unless they were rage or indignation. But that was okay. Leo was pretty crazy, too.

“Didn’t tell me _anything_ ,” Elliot hissed.

“No,” Leo agreed. He hadn’t wanted…God knew Elliot had enough problems of his own without taking on Leo’s as well. He was meant to be a servant, not a deadweight. Not a bundle of insecurities and responsibilities and horrible, bloody, patchy memories.

Elliot didn’t like that answer; his hand tightened even more. Leo was going to have a bruise.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Leo explained.

“You were afraid _what_ would happen?”

_I was afraid you’d forgive me_. “Nothing.”

“Don’t you _nothing_ me! After all this!”

_I was afraid I would live. I was afraid you would hate me. I was afraid I would hate you for not hating me. I was afraid I would never be able to forgive myself._

_Elliot, I’m still afraid_. “…It’s nothing.”

Elliot looked away and fidgeted extravagantly the way he always did when he was about to horrify himself by being nice. “You don’t have to worry,” he announced out of blind ignorance. Of course Leo had to worry. “Because you’re—I’m—it’s not—”

“Please try to finish a sentence.”

“Shut _up_. I’m saying you’ve got me, okay? You’ve got me, I’m not going anywhere. It doesn’t matter what kind of horrible, weird stuff happens, because I’m. You’re my servant, aren’t you? So I belong to you.”

Typically, Elliot had everything completely backwards. And if Oz Vessarius did not stop beaming like a proud papa, Leo was going to punch him right in the mouth.

“And you, your face is pissing me off. Get lost,” Elliot snapped at Oz. Who beamed even harder, if such a thing were possible, and wandered happily away.

“I understand that you can read my mind,” Leo sulked, “but do you really have to flaunt it like that?”

“Read your—what the _hell_ are you talking about now!?”

What the hell _was_ he talking about? He was letting Elliot distract him. Habit, probably. He’d been letting Elliot distract him for years. “It’s not this easy,” he said.

“Yes it is.”

Leo loved Elliot dearly, but he was still an arrogant jerk most of the time. “Elliot, you can’t just pretend this away! I was the one who…I…” _Say it, say it, you coward_ —“I killed your sister. You can’t forgive that. And your _mother_ —”

“The hell you did.”

“ _What_ —?”

“You didn’t kill my mother, she practically committed suicide.” Elliot paused to breathe, paused to choke back tears, and Leo couldn’t _believe_ him. “You didn’t kill my brothers or my sister, a chain did. You didn’t want to kill anyone. It doesn’t count.”

“And yet they’re still _dead_. If not for me, then—”

“Then I’d be crazy by now, and they’d be dead anyway. You weren’t exactly the lynchpin of that whole plot, sorry to burst your bubble. If not you, then somebody else.”

Leo took a few breaths and considered that. Considered Elliot. Considered Elliot’s ridiculous taste in fiction. Elliot was just amazing and stupid enough—

“You killed Isla Yura, didn’t you?”

Elliot scowled and looked away. “Oz did.”

Of course. They had the same ridiculous taste in fiction, didn’t they? “You must have been annoyed.”

“Yeah, and I’m still annoyed.” Elliot turned his scowl toward Leo, then reached out and tugged Gilbert's hat lower for no discernable reason.

“I’ll break your fingers,” Leo muttered.

“Break them tomorrow. Today I helped save your life. Ingrate.”

“I didn’t ask you to save my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. Let’s get out of here, this place is creepy as hell. Oz!”

Oz closed in, followed by Alice and Gilbert, Break and Lady Sharon, Duke Vessarius and Duchess Rainsworth, all of them talking at once about all kinds of things. Trials, duels, housing children, lunch. And all in a fluttering, chattering group, they walked out.

They walked out. They actually had the gall to clean walk out of a trial dragging the accused along with them—the accused and _guilty_ , no less—and no one tried to stop them. The sheer, staggering arrogance of it was dizzying.

Leo knew that the moment they left that room, the silence would close in again like a suffocating blanket, and no one would be able to breathe. Because now they were going to have to calm down the public. Now they’d have to do damage control.

It wasn’t Leo’s problem, though. He was gone.

“You were supposed to kill me,” he muttered to Oz under cover of the chatter.

“No,” Oz said brightly. “I was supposed to kill you if you were a danger to Elliot. Instead, when you were gone, Elliot was a danger to himself.” Oz leaned in and smiled with all the menace of, well, Break. “I guess you’re going to have to live.”

Leo understood that that was a threat. “Danger to himself?”

Oz frowned thoughtfully. “You and Gil,” he said. “It’s like you don’t get how this works at all.”

“Stop harassing Leo,” Elliot cut in, having hopefully missed everything they’d said. Oz rolled his eyes, but obligingly wandered ahead, placing himself directly between Gilbert and Alice.

Leo frowned at Elliot. “When we get home,” he hissed, “you’re going to explain yourself. And I may throw furniture at your head, so be— _what are you smiling at?_ ”

Elliot kept right on smiling like an _idiot_. “You called it home,” he said.

When someone forgave you for murdering his family and then barged in on a dangerous secret society to rescue you, Leo figured you could probably call his place home. Even if the person in question was, rather by definition, a complete moron. “Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Elliot snapped back.

All of their arguments descended to this level in under ten minutes; they always had. Maybe they always would.

_I’m going to die arguing with you_ , Leo realized.

“What the hell are you smirking about?” Elliot demanded. And for the first time since this whole nightmare began, Leo laughed.


End file.
